Rogue Dreams
by RavenclawAmber
Summary: Dreams are illustrations... from the book your soul is writing about you." Marsha Norman. Rose/Scorpius RW/SM
1. Chapter 1

_Dreams are illustrations... from the book your soul is writing about you. Marsha Norman_

_**London, 1809**_

"What a crush," Lady Lily Finnigan said fanning herself with an elaborate blue and gold fan that matched her evening gown. Rose looked around with interest. It was the third ball of the Season and the ballroom at the Marlborough House was packed. There were giggling chits dressed to perfection enjoying their first Season. And suitors snatching them up for dances. "Shall we go for some lemonade?"

"I'd prefer a brandy," Rose said behind her hand causing Lily to laugh prettily and wave her fan at her. "A glass of champagne then." Lady Lily took her by the hand and led her toward the refreshments room. Rose took a deep breath as they wound through people. She really detested the crowds, but as the only granddaughter of Viscount Ottery, an old friend of Duke and Duchess of Marlborough, who was both of age and unwed, Rose was expected in attendance. She stared at her feet as Lily led her through the crowds. She counted the steps that her pearl satin slippers made across the floor. Twenty-eight, twenty-nine…

And Lily stopped suddenly. Rose nearly ran into the back of her. They couldn't already be at the refreshments room. She dared to look up and spotted her cousin James grinning down at her. "If it isn't my dear Miss Weasley," he said with a flourish, bowing over her hand.

"My Lord," Rose said with a smile.

"You look lovely tonight. As do you, dear Sister," he addressed Lily. "I dare say, Rosie, you'll be fighting them off with a stick."

Rose blushed, "I'll be doing no such thing, Cousin. I have no wish to fight anyone with a stick-- particularly not a London dandy."

James raised his eyebrows. "You prefer a country man?"

"I prefer no man," she replied quickly. "I am satisfied with my charity."

"And your studies," Hugo, her brother joined the conversation.

"It is such a shame that a beautiful face should be buried in a musty book so often where it cannot be appreciated," Lord James replied.

"Stuff and bother!" Rose mumbled to herself. If she hadn't heard that a hundred times since she turned fourteen, she'd eat her gloves.

Lady Lily swatted James with her fan. "Enough dear brother, you are upsetting her. If Rosie wants to be a spinster, it is her prerogative and no one should have a say in it but Rosie herself."

With a huff, Rose turned to walk away. She collided with a solid chest wrapped in black. "Oh my," she said. "I apologize for my clumsiness…" she curtsied and glanced up to meet a pair of cool gray eyes. His 

collar points were at the height of fashion, and his cravat was tied perfectly, yet she did not recognize the gentleman.

"It is of no consequence," he waved a hand at her. His voice was smooth and deep. Caressing. It brought gooseflesh to her arms "Miss…."

"Weasley," she said lowering her eyes.

"Ah, yes," he said with a smirk looking to her hair. Nearly all of the large Weasley family wore one shade of red or another. Rose's was a deep, almost crimson. "If you will excuse me, Miss Weasley?" He asked. Without waiting for an answer, he bowed and his long blond hair fell over his brow before he straightened to well over six feet and wove his way into the crush.

Rose stood frozen to the floor. Her breathing was rapid and shallow. She swallowed difficultly as her cousin James came around to her side. "Do you need refreshment?" he asked worriedly, wrapping her hand around his arm and leading her away from the crush. Rose nodded, not trusting her own voice. "I'm sorry I tease you so. I just want to see you happily settled."

"Like yourself?" she asked with a sidelong glance. It was a well known fact around the _ton_ that James was a Rake. A rake he may be, but he was still her beloved cousin.

"It is different with me," James said catching a footman and taking two glasses of champagne. They seated themselves in an alcove to chat. "I am a man, an heir to the Potter fortune. Someday I will settle and have an heir of my own but for now…" he smiled lewdly.

"Dear cousin, your nighttime activities are of no interest to me. But I do wish to see you as happy as you wish to see me," Rose replied. "If we weren't related I'd reform you myself." She was jesting, of course. She could hardly think of her cousin, three years her senior, as anything more than the big brother he'd always acted.

James let out a hearty bellow of a laugh. "_You_, reform a scoundrel such as myself? You haven't the patience or the inclination to undertake such a task."

"It is true," Rose replied, "I haven't the patience for any man, rake or gentleman."

James tugged on a curl in her elaborate hairstyle, "It is all this red hair and Weasley blood."

"Might I remind you that you have the same blood running through your veins, My Lord?"

"You might. But look where it has gotten me," he pointed to a scar that sliced his right eyebrow.

Rose laughed. "Fighting in gentlemen's clubs. I see your point."

"Ah, speaking of rakes and scoundrels," James said with a nod. Rose looked up and met the same pair of cool gray eyes from earlier. He was staring at her. Discretely, Rose checked the cut of her bodice to make sure she had not fallen out of it. She sipped her drink to wet her suddenly parched mouth. _Mon Dieu. _

"Who is that?" she whispered to her cousin.

"That is Scorpius Malfoy, the elusive Duke of Bedford," James told her.

"I do not like the way he is looking at me," she lied. The truth was that under his gaze, she felt like she was on fire. Her skin heated and she cursed her tendency to blush at the drop of a feather.

"Nor do I," James scowled and drained his glass. "I am going to have a word with Malfoy."

Rose grabbed his arm, "Please no." He fixed her with a curious look. "It is of no matter how he looks at me, James. Just stay and chat with me until the dancing begins."

In a whoosh her breath came out when James relaxed his posture. Rose smoothed the creamy satin skirt of her empire gown and straightened the pink rose under her bosom. She would try to get some information about Lord Malfoy from her cousin. James seemed to know the man, and rose was intrigued by those eyes. They were still on her even as he chatted with a gentleman and his wife, unnerving her. The hair on her neck stood on end as she tried to ignore the alien feelings his watch was evoking.

"You act as if you know quite a bit about this Lord Malfoy, are you well acquainted?" she fixed him with a shrewd gaze.

James seemed to squirm a little, "Yes, we are acquainted, but not well. We met at Oxford. I've heard he's only just returned to London today."

"He is your age, then?"

"No, he is your age. Perhaps a year your senior," James said frowning. "He came into his title at a young age when his father died."

"How sad," Rose said.

"Indeed," James replied, still frowning at her. "Look at the chits fluttering around him."

Amused, Rose glanced at him, "Are you jealous, my dear? Last night, they were all tittering around you."

Disregarding her comment, James spoke, "Malfoy is quite a well known scoundrel at Oxford, Rose. Please don't get any of your philanthropic ideas about adopting the stray. He is one of the wealthiest men in London and doesn't need your kindness."

A withering glance from Rose had James flinching. "He is not a puppy, My Lord." _More a wolf_, she added silently. "And every living creature can benefit from the kindness of another."

"Rose," he warned blackly.

"Your warning will not go unheeded, dear Cousin. I shall be the definition of propriety," she said.

James sighed. "It is all I can ask for." The music started and he offered her his arm. "May I have the first dance?" Rose grinned at him and let James lead her to the dance floor. They bowed to each other and 

the dance began. She twirled and spun, paying no attention to the steps that were as ingrained as breathing in her mind. She found herself partnered with Lady Lily's husband for a moment.

"Good evening Miss Weasley," he said with a smile. He was a tall man, and a little on the plump side. His sandy colored hair was long and pulled back. He was jovial and everything she'd ever expected for her dearest cousin. He treated Lady Lily like a queen.

"Good evening to you as well, Viscount," she said before she was passed back to James. When the song ended, Rose curtsied to her cousin and he kissed her hand.

"Remember what I said, Rosie. "

She nodded, "I will remember what you have said to me." She searched the room for her cousin Fred's ginger hair. Rose had enough male cousins and uncles that she never had to dance with anyone outside her family unless she wished—which was rarely.

"Miss Weasley," a male voice said in her ear. It was a smooth, silky voice that she recognized all too well.

"Mr. Smith," Rose curtsied to him, "How do you do?" Her skin crawled as he leered at her. He had been chasing her skirt for the past two Seasons, and Rose had no desire to let him catch it.

"It is a fine evening," he said as if it answered her inquiry. "You are radiant as ever, my darling."

"Refrain yourself, Lord Smith!" she reprimanded him forcefully, two spots of color coming to life on her cheeks. Rose checked her temper to keep from leaving a hand print on his ruddy cheek. "I am not _your_ darling! I will not be addressed as such." She glanced around frantically looking for someone to save her from the wretch, but came up empty.

"Neither here, nor there," Smith said as if he knew something she did not. Glancing down her bodice, he smirked. "Save the first waltz for me." He snatched her gloved hand up and placed a sloppy kiss on it. Rose's stomach turned at the thought of his lips, his hands, anything of his, ever touching her skin.

"I cannot," Rose replied coolly. "My dances are all promised." Her mind was rapidly cataloging all her male acquaintances that she could dance with instead of Mr. Smith. Her cousins for the country dances, Lord Longbottom and her cousin Lord Potter would both help her find suitable partners for the waltzes.

The tall man glowered at her. He was cold and ruthless she'd been told. And he'd asked for her hand in marriage two Season's past. Her father would never allow her to marry someone of Smith's temperament, thank the Lord. He snorted. "I will believe it when I see it."

"Miss Weasley," a voice said from just over her shoulder. "I believe you promised me this dance, as well as the first waltz."

Without turning to look at him, she knew who was standing over her shoulder. The look on Smith's face said volumes, as did the awareness humming along her skin. She did not even care that they had only 

met once and it was not exactly proper to dance with one of such little acquaintance more than once in an evening. He'd rescued her from the lecherous Smith.

Lifting her chin a fraction of an inch, she turned to her rescuer, "I believe you are correct, Your Grace."

When Lord Malfoy offered her his arm, she hesitantly took it. The shock the sent her reeling as her gloved hand curled around his bicep made her all but faint. His step faltered for a moment, but then he continued to the dance floor. "Thank you," Rose whispered. They took their positions facing one another and began to dance. They linked arms and twirled in a circle. Every time they touched, a new jolt of electricity shocked her to her very core. She was passed down the line and met her cousin James.

"What are you doing?" he hissed as they spun together. "I thought I told you…"

"He saved me from dancing a waltz with The Pig," she replied quickly. "I need you to discretely find me partners for the waltzes, save one. I've sworn my dances are promised." James nodded and passed her back to Lord Malfoy as the caller deemed.

He took her about the waist and spun once and then let go. Their eyes met, a clash of brown and gray. A slow smile turned his lips and she felt her knees going weak. She concentrated on her breathing and recited a hymn in her head.

As the dance ended, they clapped politely and he bowed to her. "Thank you for this dance Miss Weasley." He bowed his head over her hand and kissed her knuckles. Flames raced over her body. It was like a wild fire spreading through her, completely natural, wild and untamed. Her mind went blank. "I look forward to our waltz." He squeezed her hand gently and left her standing there, agape.

"Just the beauty I've been looking for," her best friend Godric Longbottom said from beside her, "I hear you have yourself in a predicament. Accompany me to the balcony and we shall see if we can remedy your situation."

As Godric led Rose to the French doors that opened to the terrace, cool gray eyes met her line of vision and her heart stopped in her chest. "_Merde"_, she cursed. Godric smiled knowingly.

"Miss Weasley!" A shrill voice spoke alarmingly close to her. "Well, I never! Miss Weasley, wake up!"

Rose jumped awake with a start, her book dropping to the floor in front of her. Her heart was firing rapidly against her ribcage. She blinked taking stock of her surroundings. The library. She was in Hogwarts' library. Madam Wellington was staring down at her through thick spectacles, her eyes larger than they should be.

"Oh my," Rose said feeling disoriented. The sky outside had grown dark and the constant drizzle of November had turned to a thundering rain. She glanced down at the novel her mother had sent to her and felt an odd sensation creeping through her.

"It is past curfew, Miss Weasley," the librarian informed her shrewdly, "I called out nearly an hour ago.

"I must have fallen asleep," Rose said blinking again. Then a sinking feeling hit the pit of her stomach, it was Saturday and as Head Girl, she was supposed to be doing rounds with her cousin Albus Potter. "I'm sorry Madam Wellington, I didn't realize how tired I was." Rose bit back a yawn and stood.

"You had better run back to your dormitory now."

"Yes Madam," Rose said hurrying to gather her bag and her book. As she headed back to Gryffindor Tower, she tried to recall her dream the best she could. Only bits and pieces floated into her conscious mind: her cousins, a cream colored gown with pale pink roses and_ that expression_—haunting gray eyes and an unforgettable seductive smile.

**A/N :**  
I have been wanting so badly to write a piece set in a different time. Time travel is too sticky and complicated for my liking, so this is my answer. As of right now, it is set to be three chapters long, but that may change. Updates should come once every week to two weeks, as real life often gets in the way of my writing ;) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy.


	2. Chapter 2

_Your vision will become clear only when you look into your heart. Who looks outside, dreams. Who looks inside, awakens. ~ Carl Jung_

One week had passed since that afternoon in the library. The week came and went in a flurry of test preparation and Holiday cheer. The first snow of the season had fallen on Thursday, and was already being washed away by a slow, steady rain. It was the first week in December, and decorations were starting to appear around the castle. Bells had been hung on the front door to the Castle and the occasional sprig of enchanted Mistletoe chased unsuspecting students.

It was common on days such as today, for students to gather in the Great Hall between meals, particularly her family who was spread between the houses. Albus sat next to Rose on a sofa in front of a great roaring fire and his younger sister, Lily Potter sat on the rug playing Gobstones with her brother, Hugo.

Rose pulled her worn paperback from her book bag and began to read. For some reason, she felt drawn into the pages of the historical romances her mother and grandmother sent to her. It was like stepping into another time. This one was about Lady Arabella and a Rogue by the name of Jack with dashing good looks, and a broad chest.

"Are you reading that trash again?" Albus admonished with a groan. Rose shrugged a shoulder and ignored him. He preferred reading the funnies in the _Daily Prophet_. Who was he to give her a hard time about her choice of escape? "Don't you have something better to do?"

Arching an eyebrow Rose said, "And what, pray tell might that be, dear Cousin?"

"And that's another thing, you've been talking funny since Aunt Hermione sent you that stack of books," he crossed his arms over his green and silver Weasley jumper. "It's like you've gone back in time."

Grinning she said emphatically, "Exactly the point," and went back to her book.

Albus turned his attentions to the game on the rug and cheered Hugo on. Rose felt the hair on her neck raise and then she heard a familiar voice.

"Hey Al, Rose," Scorpius Malfoy said as he sat on the couch between them. "Are you reading that trash again?"

Rose glared at him and Albus snorted behind his hand.

"It is not trash, you buffoons! It is historical romance… a word you two have undoubtedly never heard of!" she flicked her hair behind her ear and buried her nose in her book. She wasn't reading though, she was having trouble concentrating and could not for the life of her figure out why. Her stomach had been tied in knots a good deal of the time over the past week. Initially she'd thought she was coming down with influenza, but she'd gotten no worse over the course of the week.

Scorpius snatched the book from her hands and flipped through it, "You'll lose my place!" Rose exclaimed, her cheeks flushing. She'd just gotten to a particularly steamy love scene before being interrupted.

"Is there anything about a quivering member, or a sweet honey pot?" he asked with a devilish smirk.

"Not in front of my sister!" Albus said shoving his elbow in Malfoy's ribs.

"I wonder, Malfoy, where you would get an idea like that?" Rose said testily, not bothering to inform Albus that she passed the books directly to Lily as soon as she'd finished them.

"My mother reads this trash—and as a randy teenage boy I often skimmed through them for the, uh, good parts," he said waggling his eyebrows at her. Rose's stomach flipped.

"Mon Dieu," Rose muttered slapping her forehead.

"You're doing it again, Rosie," Albus complained.

"Oh stuff it, Al," she said nastily.

Scorpius laughed and skimmed through the book. A slow smile pulled at his lips. Rose all but melted. Her heart started to slam against her ribcage. _Not again, _she pleaded _Please, Merlin, not again_? She tried to take the book back from Scorpius and he slapped at her hands.

"Not yet," he said grinning, "Can't you see I am reading?"

Rose growled at him and lunged. "Bloody wanker!" she tore for the book, grabbing and assailing him. Scorpius held the book out of her reach and wrapped a strong arm around her waist to hold her still. She buried her face in his arm. Scorpius yelped. Albus was beside himself with laughter, Lily and Hugo had stopped to watch with amusement. "Give. Me. My. Book."

"Nuh-uh," he said breathlessly laughing. "You have to give me something first." Scorpius puckered his lips and Albus opened his mouth to protest. With her fist at the back of his head, she wrapped it tightly in his long hair and pulled, "My book. Now," she growled, her brown eyes alight with fire.

"Feisty wench!" he said still laughing, he pulled her closer. Rose's eyes met his and for an instant, she was thrown back into her dream, unaware of those watching. Her eyes went misty. She had collided with his solid chest and was staring into the cool gray eyes of a rogue. Scorpius Malfoy. Only his eyes weren't cool, they were molten steel.

"Rose?" he said letting her go gently. "Are you okay? I was just teasing."

Book forgotten, Rose jumped to her feet. "I'm just going to… go. I'll see you all at dinner." And she fled the Great Hall. She ran through the castle, not bothering to acknowledge the stares that students were sending her way as the Head Girl _ran_ in the corridors. Her mind was reeling. Had he felt that? The delicious shock of electricity as she was hauled against his body? The smell of his soap, spicy and masculine, still clung to her senses. The stone walls and portraits flew by as she made her way up. She found herself climbing toward the astronomy tower. She slid down the wall at the top of stairs and gulped lungful after lungful of air trying to catch her breath.

The coolness of the stone at her back had her calming. It was solid, unmoving, and supportive. Rose slowed her breath letting her head fall back against the rough rock. A cool wind whistled under the door leading outside and Rose welcomed it. Her face was hot, she was undoubtedly blushing to the roots of her red hair. Had Scorpius known what he was doing when he tried to barter with a kiss? Or had it merely been a jest?

Despite their differences in opinion, the two had gotten along well from the start. Al's being in Slytherin and making a quick friendship with him had seen to that. He was handsome and tall, and had always been simply like an extension of her cousin—family. From the time they were old enough, Scorpius had always had a girl on his arm whether it be at a Quidditch match or a Hogsmeade weekend.

What had the brute meant by trying to get her to kiss him? Surely he hadn't set his designs on her. It was simply impossible. Just as he was family to her, she had always been family to him. He was nearly a year older than her and had always taken his duty as big brother quite seriously. Whether fending off the odd offensive bloke or making sure that she was well looked after when sick. James had said he'd even gotten a good punch or two in on Zachy Smith after he'd made suggestive comments about her being a good shag during their fifth year. Of course, Rose had never given anyone a shag, let alone a good one. And most assuredly when she did, it wouldn't be with Spotty Smith The Pig—as Rose and Lily had taken to calling him.

"Rose!" she heard Scorpius call from below. She flattened herself against the of the spiral staircase and willed herself not to breathe. Her heart jumped into her throat. "Rose, Godric saw you come up here—"

"Damn," she muttered. She and her friend were going to have a chat. Godric Longbottom was two years younger than her, the same age as her brother. Rose suspected he fancied her, but not equal to how he looked up to both Albus and Scorpius. He was a surrogate brother—something Rose had an abundance of.

"He said you were running," she could hear the smirk in Scorpius voice, "and getting all sorts of looks from lower classman."

A tentative footstep, and then he was climbing the staircase. She muttered another curse and buried her head in her hands. She imagined that Scorpius would find her even if Longbottom hadn't opened his mouth. Rose only had three hiding places, her room, the kitchens and this tower. And he knew all three. Damn. She could hear his soft footfalls growing closer. In the low light, Rose could see him come around the bend. He was wearing his favorite black denim trousers and a soft black jumper that Rose hadn't taken the time to notice before.

He slid down the wall to sit on the stair below and held the book out for her, "I'm sorry." His tone was soft and apologetic. He was equal in height to her and looked into her eyes.

Rose took the peace offering. "I'm sorry I pulled your hair."

"And bit me?"

"I did no such thing…" Rose said and then recalled sinking her teeth into his bicep in an attempt to retrieve her book. She groaned, "Yeah, sorry about that too." Scorpius laughed. It was low and melodic and caused Rose's blood to boil under her skin. She chastised her hormones and took a deep breath. This reaction to him was something new, and would take some getting used to.

He put his arm around her shoulders in companionship, "I'm sorry for the things I said, too," he took a breath. Rose's heart hummed franticly in her chest. "I sometimes forget that you are a girl and have delicate ears—I shouldn't say such rude things around you. My mother would have my hide if she knew I'd been discussing—well you know."

The humming stopped. He didn't think of her as a girl? She felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over her. "I'll have you know, Malfoy, that my ears aren't so _delicate. _I did grow up with Fred and James."

"They're family," Scorpius said shrugging his shoulders. "James can regale you with his bawdy language all he wants, but I know better than to say things in front of a lady… particularly one whom I am not related to."

Thump. Thump. Thump. Her heart started to beat again.

"You're just always with us though," he continued not noticing the sound of her heart beating frantically, "I forget to censor myself so you don't feel uncomfortable… I don't make you uncomfortable, do I?" He sounded genuinely worried.

Rose took care not to laugh. She was entirely uncomfortable right now. She could feel his heart beating against her as she rested under his wing—though he didn't seem to be having the same problem she did. Her heart was absolutely racing. Rose could smell his soap and noticed that it had a hint of cinnamon mixed with clove. His aristocratic profile was silhouetted against the light of a candle below. She leaned a little harder against him, absorbing his warmth. "No, you don't make me uncomfortable." But even as she said it, her nerves were threatening to combust.

Turning, he rested his forehead against hers. Scorpius looked into her eyes and she had the impression of depth and sincerity. With the slightest upturn of his lips, he murmured, "Good."


	3. Chapter 3

**A ruffled mind makes a restless pillow. ~Charlotte Brontë**

***

Rose took a deep breath. She swayed lightly and followed his lead. The Duke of Bedford pulled her a little closer and she pretended not to notice. They turned about the room to the music with grace and ease. It was the last waltz of the evening and Rose's spirits were waning. Finally, she spoke.

"I was not expecting to see you here this evening, Your Grace." She stared into his cool eyes as she spoke calmly despite being flustered.

"And yet, here I am," he said rather amused. It was Wednesday and she had come to Almack's Assembly with her mother accompanied by her cousin Albus.

"Indeed, here you are," she agreed a bit testily. She had hoped to have a private accord with him prior to their dance. Perhaps allow him to fetch her some lemonade and sink away into an alcove where they could not be overheard. Alas, he had only shown his face during the last twenty minutes.

"You promised me your last waltz, did you not?" Lord Malfoy said, raising one blond eyebrow at her. Rose flushed.

She heard one of the women gossiping, Miss Jenkins, "Indecent, the way he is holding her!" Rose knew without a doubt that the _her_ in question was one, Rose Weasley.

Never having been much for gossip, Rose turned her nose up. "I believe, sir, that you are holding me a little too near for proprieties comfort."

"But not yours?" he whispered. Rose looked away. She feared that if she were too close for her own comfort, there would be a lot more than mere propriety at stake. He did not loosen his grip. She glanced at him and found that he was smiling serenely down at her. "Is it true Miss Weasley that you never dance with anyone at assembly? Only your cousins?"

"I am afraid that it is true, my lord," Rose said feeling slightly ruffled. He simply smiled.

She did not smile back, only blinked as the dance ended.

"Thank you, Your Grace," Rose said curtsying, "For your kindness."

He took her hand and brushed his lips over it, "Call me Malfoy." Rose's heart jumped into her throat. She merely nodded and turned from him to clear the dance floor. Home… she needed to go home. She found her mother gossiping with Lady Lily's mother in law just off the assembly room.

"Mother, I fear I'm growing fatigued," Rose said after greeting the Dowager Lady Finnigan.

"Find your cousin, and we shall retire for the evening then, my love," Hermione Weasley said with a calm smile, "It is a growing late, and I fear that I have an appointment early tomorrow."

***

Rose was sitting in the morning parlor sipping a cup of tea when the first morning caller arrived. Her pink muslin gown was freshly pressed and perfect, "Young Lord Longbottom," the butler announced.

"Show him in, please," she said with a smile. Rose stood as Godric made his way into the room and met him halfway. He was wearing a light colored riding suit cut to fit his slightly plump frame. His sandy mustache covered his top lip and his grin was infectious.

He took her hands in his and squeezed, "Ah, the lovely Miss Weasley is a ray of sunshine in my otherwise dreary life."

"You flatter me, Godric," she said with a grin. "What are you doing up at this hour?"

"I forwent the tables last night. I fear I am on my way to the country for a week," he said ruefully, "My mother is playing matchmaker again."

Rose patted his hand in commiseration. "I believe my mother is doing the same. She had an early errand today." He groaned. Mrs. Weasley was undoubtedly out to tea with her mother in law, Grandmother Weasley, trying to devise a plot to see Rose wed by her twenty third birthday. Possibly even out with Longbottom's mother, the Dowager countess trying to match the two of them together. Rose shuddered at the thought.

"My sympathies," Longbottom said in a grave voice. They were friends, as close as male and female could be, but felt nothing romantic for one another. The thought of providing him with an heir, well, if she wished to retain her breakfast, she would not think on it long.

"Miss Weasley," the butler addressed from the open door, "Another caller has arrived, The Duke of Bedford. " Rose's eyes went round as tea saucers.

"Do you not wish to see him?" Longbottom asked. "I will make your excuses, Rose."

"No, no, I am fine. Give me another moment with Longbottom and then show him in, Wells," she nodded to the butler. Her hands were shaking, so she set her teacup down.

"Are you certain you are okay?"

"Yes. No need to worry, my dear Lord Longbottom," Rose spoke with confidence she did not feel. She glanced behind her to make sure her chaperone was where she had left her. The plump maid sat embroidering a pillow front, her eyes shrewdly assessing the pair every few stitches.

He glared at her for a moment and spoke quietly, "Is Malfoy courting you?"

"No!" she said with more enthusiasm than she had meant. He was not courting her, was he? Rose was not entirely sure. She did not wish to be courted, not by any man.

"Promise me, Rose, you will guard yourself accordingly. He is not known for being a _gentleman_," Longbottom said with emphasis.

"He is a rogue, a scoundrel. Yes, I've heard it before," Rose said somewhat annoyed.

"He is, and you'd do well not to forget it," he said fiercely tapping his boot with his cane, "I only say these things for your benefit, Rose. Only out of concern for your reputation."

She smiled at him and stood as excused himself. He kissed her hand and bowed to her. She glared at her maid, daring her to say a word, and gave him a hug. "It is appreciated. Have a safe journey, Godric. Perhaps you will see my dear cousin James. He's departed for his Devonshire estate two days past."

"I shall pay him a call," he bowed again and grinned.

Longbottom turned to the door and met Lord Malfoy with a curt nod. The contrast between the two was quite striking. Longbottom was short and stocky, while Malfoy stood tall and broad. One was light, while the other dark. Godric turned to her and said, "Take care in my absence, Rose."

Rose smiled, "I will. Farewell my lord."

He waited until Lord Longbottom had left the room before turning to her in all his splendid glory. His unfashionably long white hair was tied back in a black ribbon. His black riding clothes were starched and neat. "Good morning, Miss Weasley," Lord Malfoy said bowing to her.

"Please, have a seat, Your Grace," she motioned to the green velvet divan where he took his seat Straight-backed, Rose perched herself in a round floral chair to his right.

His eyes held hers for a moment, "Malfoy or Bedford, if you please, Miss Weasley? I tire so easily at answering to my title."

Rose answered with a curt nod, "As you wish, my lord." She folded her hands across her lap and lowered her eyes to the ground, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Lord Malfoy?"

"I wished to issue an invitation to the theater tonight," he looked around the room, "Is your mother out?"

"She is. An early appointment," Rose said with a smile that did not quite meet her eyes. She smoothed the muslin of her morning gown across her lap, "I fear we have already made an engagement with the Lord and Lady Potter to attend The Gardens this evening."

"Perhaps tomorrow evening?" he said smoothly.

"Perhaps."

"You will send word?"

"I will, my lord," Rose agreed.

"Would you be agreeable to a drive around the park this afternoon?" he asked in the silence. He looked baffled at his own forwardness, but composed himself quickly.

"I should like that very much," Rose said smiling demurely.

"Then I shall call again at two," Malfoy rose and bowed over her hand, "Until then, my precious Rose." She fluttered her eyelashes. She felt faint. Surely her stays were on too tight.

Rose bolted upright from sleep her breath coming in rapid spurts. Flinging open her bed hangings, she jumped from her bed and began to pace at the foot. The sun was shining in the wake of the storm, but the winter chill permeated her quarters. These dreams had been plaguing her every night for the past week, and in their wake, she'd been doing some soul searching. She wrapped her heavy flannel dressing gown about her shoulders and put her slippers on.

Surely there must be something to be done for it. She'd stopped reading her romance novels, and had stopped paying attention in NEWT level History of Magic where they were covering the Regence era Goblin rebellions. She'd even given up chocolate before bed, but to no avail. It wasn't that the dreams were unpleasant, they were far from that. But they were quite unsettling. She'd started blushing whenever Scorpius looked her direction. The other night at dinner, he'd caught her eye across the Great Hall and she'd put her sleeve in the gravy. Somehow, some way, this had to stop.

In her mind, she'd even started calling Scorpius, Lord Malfoy. It was bloody annoying to sit across from him in Potions and remember how good he'd looked in her dreams wearing a tight black waistcoat, dinner jacket and starched cravat. Good enough to eat, she recalled with a groan.

She blamed her mother.

If Rose had not been forced to read Jane Austen at a young age, and then watch old films at her grandmother's house during the summer… she'd have never been able to imagine these things so clearly. And if it hadn't been for these silly Muggle romances her mother kept sending her, Rose would not be contemplating the sensation in her stomach when Lord Malfoy brushed his soft lips across her knuckles. Nor would she have realized the scorching effect it had when she was pressed up against him.

And what was worse still, was that while all these things were going on, she was certain that Scorpius didn't have a clue. Since that night in the Astronomy tower when he admitted that he didn't think of her as family, Scorpius had been keeping his distance outside of classes.

And Rose missed him.


	4. Chapter 4

"Bugger," Rose said as she tripped down the last three stairs to the Charms classroom. Professor Flitwick would have a fit. It would be the second time in as many weeks that Rose Weasley, Head Girl had been late to is class. Oh, he would not really have a fit, but he would demand she do better on her essay than usual in order to obtain her O.

She took a seat behind Scorpius and Albus at the back of the classroom and hurriedly got her notes out. It was advanced repelling charms today, and Rose had missed the first ten minutes of the lecture. Last night had been a particularly bad dream. Not bad in the sense that it was _bad_, but bad in the sense that she felt rather scandalous being in the same room with the object of her lustful imaginings, _Lord Malfoy_.

The dream had started out as usual with dancing and a little champagne. A few snide comments from Lord Potter about her choice of partner, and then she'd wound up on the balcony of a grand Georgian house with her back against the wall and her skirts up around her waist. While _Lord Malfoy_ pleasured her in ways she could only begin to imagine.

Rose glanced at the back of his head and fought the nerves that fluttered in her tummy. _Ridiculous_. That was the only word that summed up these wicked dreams. Scorpius threw a glance over his shoulder and smiled brilliantly at her. Rose quickly looked down at her notes again fighting a blush.

As the class drew to a close, they all packed their bags and moved toward the door. Scorpius and Albus waited at the end of the row for her.

"It's not fair," Albus muttered. "Rose misses the first half of class and still performs the perfect repelling charm before anyone else. It is bloody-well _not fair_."

"I didn't miss _half_ the class," Rose said in defense, glancing sidelong at Scorpius who had taken up flank on her right side.

"She's just brilliant," Scorpius said shrugging at Albus. "There's nothing more to be said for it." Rose tripped over her own foot and Scorpius automatically reached out and righted her. "And damned clumsy."

"I'll see you guys later," Rose said hurriedly, fighting the sting of tears behind her eyes. Why did she always make a fool of herself in front of him? And why did it suddenly matter so much? Things were just as they had always been. Scorpius and Albus were still her best friends and she was still Rose. Nothing had changed. Nothing aside from the increase of her heartbeat and the rush of magic that flowed through her body at the sight of Scorpius.

Nothing had changed at all.

"Rose, wait up!"

She groaned as she took two stairs at a time. She came to a stop on the landing and spun to face Scorpius. His face was flushed from keeping pace with her, and his hair was slightly mussed where he'd run his fingers through it in frustration during Charms class.

_Thud…. Thud…. Thud, thud, thud…_

Rose's heart sped in her chest. Who was she kidding? _Everything_ had changed.

"What do you want Lo…. Malfoy?" her reply was short. She cursed her mind for thinking. She had almost slipped.

"Whoa," he said taking a step back toward the banister. He held his hands up in surrender, "Sorry about the clumsy comment, I was just making an observation."

Rose cocked her head to the side. He thought she was angry with him. She almost laughed at the absurdity. It was the exact opposite, in fact. She was angry with herself for being affected by him. Rose was angry at herself for wanting to press him against the banister and snog him senseless right here in front of God and everyone.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Well?"

"Oh," he said dropping his arms and taking a step closer, "I just wanted to talk to you."

"I'm listening," she said trying to school her features to say _cool, calm, collected,_ not _eager, wanton, take-me-now-on-the-stairway_.

Scorpius looked around at the students passing by on their way to lunch, "Maybe later." Rose stamped her foot and groaned in frustration. She whirled and started to sprint up the stairs. "Wait," he called out and grabbed her by the strap of her bag. She stumbled back off the first step and twirled back toward Scorpius, right into his arms.

"Well," he said swallowing hard, "I was just wondering what you were doing for this Hogsmeade weekend."

Rose raised an eyebrow trying to ignore that his hands were resting on the curve of her waist. "I imagine I'll be going with you and Albus like always."

"Thing is, Albus had a date and…" he took a deep breath, "I was hoping you'd still come with me… just the two of us."

Rose bit her lip and took a step back. Obviously being that close to Scorpius was clouding her ability to think. She was daydreaming, and he hadn't just asked her to Hogsmeade. She took a deep breath, feeling some of the heat pour out of her face. "What was that? I don't think I heard you properly?"

Scorpius groaned and stepped closer to her, "Are you really going to make me ask you again?" he whispered as a group of fifth years passed them. Pale pink spots were forming on his cheeks, and Rose started to wonder if she had heard him correctly after all.

"I… you… want?" Rose stuttered incoherently.

"Yeah," he replied smiling sheepishly down at her. Scorpius reached out and clasped her hand in his.

***

Rose walked into the room on the arm of her younger brother, Hugo. Her lady's maid had spent an inordinate amount of time on her tonight. She had seen a lot of Lord Malfoy over the past two weeks. They'd gone on rides in the park with her mother and even one with his mother, the Dowager Duchess, or as she'd begged Rose to call her, Astoria.

Her gown was a pale blue silk at the height of fashion. If she so much as moved wrong, she knew her nipples would pop out of the bodice. Rose flushed at just the thought of it. Hugo nudged her side and nodded across the ballroom "Malfoy is here."

She'd known he would be.

Rose's father Ron, Viscount Ottery, scowled menacingly across the room, and she had no doubt that he was sizing up the man who was courting his little girl. Rose smiled to herself. She couldn't help it. For all the times that her father had chastised her about waiting too long to marry, he was certainly taking this hard.

When he'd returned from business at the family home in Ottery St. Catchpole to find a _scoundrel_ calling on his only daughter, he'd been a bit put out. Ron Weasley had turned as red as the poppies in the garden and demanded to know Malfoy's intentions.

"I wish to make her my wife," he'd announced to the room at large.

Rose had nearly fainted. She had secretly been wishing, but hadn't dared to hope, that his intent was marriage. Somewhere along the second week, Rose had decided that she loved the man. He was a man of honor and good will despite his past.

They had even discussed his well-earned reputation in whispered tones under the watch of her hawk-eyed maid. She knew that he had indeed been quite a rake, but since he'd returned to London and his estate in Bedford, he'd changed his ways. No one would believe it, but Rose did. She knew that if he made her his wife, he would be faithful.

When Lord James Potter strode purposefully into the ballroom, Rose tugged free of her brother and ducked behind a potted palm. Her Aunt Ginevra had warned her that James was returning, but she did not know how soon or to what purpose. She peeked from behind a frond and saw him spot Hugo and march toward him.

James Potter was a force to be reckoned with and the fury blazing in his eyes as Hugo ratted her out took her breath away. She slipped around a thick hanging and saw Lord Malfoy across the dancehall. They were to announce their engagement tonight, and she'd be damned if she would let her overbearing oaf of a cousin ruin it.

Rose ducked out through a French door onto the terrace and leaned against the banister. As James exited the ballroom she was thankful that the area was empty. His eyes were blazing and Rose lifted her chin.

"I leave you alone for two weeks, and you've got the biggest scoundrel in London sniffing around you like a bitch in heat!" he said angrily.

"Excuse me?" Rose said raising her eyebrows.

"Pardon, but I don't think you should be comparing my fiancé to a pointer hound, Potter," Malfoy said coolly as he came through the doorway and made his way to Rose's side.

"Stay out of this Mal—Fiancé!?" James said, his face losing color.

Rose felt her heart beat quicken and her mouth go dry. She still hadn't gotten used to the fact that she was going to marry, especially someone so gloriously handsome and charming as Lord Malfoy. "Yes, dear Cousin," Rose said, her tone matching Lord Malfoy's, "Scorpius and I are to be married in six weeks. The first of the Banns will be called this Sabbath."

James sputtered and a pained look crossed his face. "I warned you Rosie," he said quietly, "I don't want you to get hurt. I love you like I love my own sister and I would have never allowed her to marry someone like…" he waved his hand at Lord Malfoy.

Rose was relieved when Malfoy laughed loudly, "Someone _like me_? Do you mean someone like yourself, Potter?" When James didn't answer he raised his eyebrow. He gazed down at Rose and smiled serenely but his words held a note of steel. "I'll have you listen, and listen well. If you ever so much as insinuate that I would purposely hurt Miss Weasley, I will ask you to choose your weapon at sunrise. My days of philandering are done and gone. Lady Weasley has my heart and my body from this day forth."

Rose felt the crimson rising on her chest and in her cheeks, but she couldn't look away from the smoldering gray of his eyes. She felt her breathing coming in short gasps and fought to speak, "As am I yours," she whispered.

James made an ungentlemanly noise and excused himself. Rose moved toward her Lord Malfoy. He snaked an arm around her waist and pressed their bodies together. His mouth descended on hers roughly and suddenly the ballroom had vanished. There was nothing but Rose and Scorpius. She could feel him unlacing her bodice and freeing her breasts to the night air.

She gasped as his tongue slid over the swell of her breast and lower to her nipple. She could feel the cold stone wall materialize behind her and his finger digging into the flesh of her thighs as he eased her skirt up.

_Tap, tap, tap_…

The vision became hazy.

_Tap, tap, tap…_

Rose opened one eye. It was barely light outside.

_Tap, tap, tap_…

She sat up and groaned out loud. Why did she always wake up just when the dream was getting… _interesting_?

Rose put her feet in slippers and went to her window to let the bird in. There was a large brown parcel attached and a piece of parchment attached. She unfolded it and read:

_Sorry for the early post. I thought you might like these delivered to the privacy of your dormitory. I hope everything is well. We are looking forward to seeing you over Christmas holiday. We are going to stay the night at the Hogshead so we can spend Christmas afternoon with you. Be sure to invite Scorpius. _

_Love, _

_Mum _

She glanced dubiously at the paper-wrapped package knowing full well what it contained. "Damned if you do, damned if you don't," she muttered to herself as she untied the pale blue ribbon to reveal a stack of six new romance novels.


End file.
